


'Tis the Season

by Molespeople



Series: Egg In Your Milky Way [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kid Fic, M/M, christmas in july
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molespeople/pseuds/Molespeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The holidays are a crazy time. Werewolf children and the holidays, ha ha. Good luck.  </p>
<p>Follow the Pack as they try to survive the holidays - Thanksgiving to Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Turkey Day

**Author's Note:**

> Monday was kind of rough. Ugh. Here's to hoping the rest of the week goes better. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

Stiles shoves a tray of rolls into the oven. He quickly surveys the state of the kitchen. Mashed potatoes and stuffing are keeping warm in double boilers. Green bean casserole is keeping warm in the microwave. Turkey is resting. Venison is resting. Cranberry sauce is cooling. Pies are waiting in the wings. Everybody is here, just 10 minutes for the rolls and Thanksgiving is on. Stiles claps his hands. "Ok, everybody, let's get the Christmas card photo over with, and then we can eat." 

Everybody starts slowly moving towards the door. Stiles sighs. "We're losing daylight, people!" 

Cora puts her hands on her hips. "I need to watch the game. It's kind of my job."

"Well, the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get back to the game." 

Cora rolls her eyes and tries to hustle everybody out the door. 

Hamish runs to the door, clad in a red argyle sweater.

Stiles sighs. "Hamish Hale. Freeze." He gestures to everybody in the room. "We're wearing green this year for the photo." 

Hamish shakes his head. "I didn't agree to this. I look better in red." 

Derek walks into the room, wrestling with the camera tripod. “Change now, Hamish." 

Hamish huffs and runs to his room. 

Stiles looks around. "Where are the girls?" 

Derek pauses as he opens the door. "They're still upstairs."

"I'll go get them. Keep a nose out for the oven, would you?" 

Derek nods. Stiles takes the stairs two at a time and heads to the girls' bedroom. He hears giggling and he sighs as he opens the doors. "Didn't you girls hear? It's time for OH MY GOD! WHAT HAPPENED!?"

Merida and Elinor giggle madly. 

Derek comes charging up the stairs. "Are they hurt? What happened?" He skids to a stop at the bedroom doorway. " _Where_ did Merida get scissors?"

Stiles is on his knees shoving handfuls of curls in his pocket. He then picks up Elinor and carries her out of the room holding her at arm's length. "Derek, bring the hair."

Derek yells after him. "I'm not bringing the hair, Stiles! What are you going to do? Glue it back on?"

"If it comes to that, yes, but I was thinking of putting a hat on her and shoving the hair...into...the hat." 

Derek looks down at Merida, who's still trying not to laugh. "Your daddy is kind of silly sometimes. But you know you're not supposed to play with the scissors." 

"But it's fun! Elinor thought it was funny." 

"Ellie is two. Not exactly a genius yet."

Hamish walks out of his bedroom. "What did I miss?"

Derek shakes his head. "Just go downstairs." Derek rolls his eyes as he hears Hamish stomp down the stairs doing his best elephant impression. "Let's go follow the Stompasaurus, Merida."

When they arrive downstairs, onlookers surround Elinor and Stiles. Elinor is on the kitchen table and Stiles is trying to artfully shove hair into a knit hat. Ellie is not having it, squirming about. "ICHEE. DADDY. ICHEE." 

Hamish glares at Merida. "You are a _monster_. Butchering my hair wasn't enough; you just had to go after the baby. She's deformed now. I hope you're happy."

Derek sighs. "She's not deformed, it'll grow back."

"Judging by her famous Hale eyebrows, it should be about two weeks." Peter drawls from the corner. 

Cora nods. "Sounds about right." 

Derek shakes his head. "Very helpful. Thanks."

Allison waddles into the kitchen. "Hellooo. We've been waiting outside forever! It's not nice to keep a pregnant lady from Thanksgiving dinner - Oh my god. Did Merida find the scissors again?"

The answer is unanimous. "Yes." 

Allison wrinkles her nose. "What's that smell?"

Stiles freezes, a handful of hair clutched in one hand. "THE ROLLS!" 

Everybody watches as Stiles flails around the kitchen searching for the oven mitts. Fergus sidles up to Derek. "Do I need to get the fire extinguisher, Al-pa?"

Derek shakes his head. "I think we're good. Why don't you pups go outside and wait with Angus and Scott, we should be taking the picture soon." The triplets nod and run away.

Stiles quickly removes the tray of rolls from the oven. "Hot, hot, hot." He frantically shakes the rolls into a bowl and wraps a cloth around it. "They're not burnt...mostly."

Allison grins. "A pregnant woman's sense of smell trumps the werewolves'. Ha ha." Her face sobers. "But seriously slap a bow on Elinor and let's get going. I swear if dinner is cold...it will not be pretty." 

"Slap a bow on her! Why don't we shave Olivia while we're at it! See how you like it?" Stiles rants as he puts the bow on Elinor's head. 

"Touch Olivia's hair, and I will destroy you."

"Oh, it's that lumpy skull, isn't it? I remember how happy you were when she started to grow hair - it only took a year."

"Well at least my kid doesn't have mutated caterpillars for eyebrows!"

Derek rolls his eyes and joins Peter and Cora as they start herding Stiles and Allison towards the door. Elinor is grinning happily. At least somebody is having a good time. 

By the time the picture is taken and everybody sits down for dinner, it's cold. But fortunately everybody is so hungry at that point that they don't really care.


	2. The Daily Distraction and Its Effect on Christmas Card Productivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles tries to write his holiday cards. There are distractions. There's also a lot of glitter. It doesn't help that it's really hard to lie to a werewolf.

Stiles trudges to the kitchen table, arms laden with a huge binder, two boxes of envelopes, five boxes of cards, and a thick packet of photographs. When he drops it on the table it lands with satisfying thud. He shakes his head. "Well this is going to take forever."

Stiles sits down and gets to work. There's a small pile of crisp white envelopes when the door opens. Elinor toddles in. Derek follows closely behind. Stiles shakes his head. It's still really weird not to see Elinor's usual curls. "Did you have fun with Al-pa, Elinor?"

Elinor runs over to Stiles and starts bouncing up and down. "Yes! So much goats." She claps her hands and Stiles cringes when he notices that her hands are absolutely filthy. He scoops her up and carries her away from the kitchen table before she can do any permanent damage to the holiday cards.

"Are you sure you were playing with the goats? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were playing in the mud like a little piggy!" Stiles shoots Derek a dirty look. Derek shrugs, unapologetic. 

Stiles rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the little girl in his arms. "Let's get this little piggy cleaned up and then we can make some lunch."

Elinor scrunches her nose. "What for lunch?"

"Pork chops!" Stiles tickles Elinor. She shrieks with laughter. 

"No, Daddy!" 

Derek nods. "Yup, she's too stringy to be tasty."

Elinor nods emphatically. "For real!"

Stiles purses his lips. "Let me think then... How about a Grilled Cheese sandwich?" 

Derek looks in the breadbox. "Nope." 

"Why don't we have bread?"

"Boyd likes toast? I just had enough for Angus' lunch."

Stiles sighs. "Put it on the grocery list."

"Looks like it's macaroni and cheese, Ellie my dear." Stiles looks at the clock and sighs. "And maybe if we cross our fingers, lunch will be ready before your brothers and sister get home."

\----- 

Stiles is putting the finishing touches on the macaroni and cheese when Hamish runs in the door, a frantic look in his eyes.

"Please tell me you did not listen to Elinor." 

"But Mac and Cheese with licorice sounds so good!" 

Hamish lets out a disgusted groan. 

"Relax Mish-Mash, it's just ham and peas."

Hamish's eyes narrow. "You're not funny, you know."

"I'm VERY funny. Go wash your hands. Lunch is nearly ready."

Merida is next to run in the door, brandishing a multi-colored felt circle. "Daddy! Look what I made." 

"You did a great job! So many colors."

Merida nods. "Yeah. I was trying to remember the colors that Deaton told me were the good ones...but I couldn't...but rainbows are good! "

Stiles nods sagely. "It's all relative really, so you did a good job. Why don't you put it on the counter, so it doesn't get dirty, and go wash up for lunch." 

Merida nods and runs off. Derek walks through the door carrying Elinor. He gives Stiles a cautious look. Stiles internally sighs and braces himself for the impending doom. 

Fergus walks through the door, holding a glue and glitter monstrosity. 

Stiles starts frantically stirring the pasta and tries to remain calm. Fergus is practically covered in gold glitter. It's everywhere. Everywhere. There's virtually a glitter trail leading to their front door. Stiles can see the telltale sparkles on Derek and Elinor too. Great, it's contagious. Stiles gestures for Derek to stay still, before he turns - feigning surprise. "Wow! That's so amazingly shiny!"

Fergus nods proudly. "I used all the gold glitter Mrs. Paniagua had! "

"Well you can certainly tell you put a lot of effort into it. Wowza! We need to find a place to put this immediately!" Stiles looks around. "Hmm, I'm not seeing anything in here that's worthy of such a decoration...Hey wait a minute...since your ornament is so shiny, do you think we could put outside, so special people - maybe even Santa Claus can find our house?"

Fergus nods emphatically. "Like Rudolph's nose!" 

"Exactly like that. Why don't you go outside with Al-pa and pick the perfect spot while I get lunch ready." 

Fergus runs out the door - glitter streaming behind him. Derek puts Elinor down on the ground and turns to leave. Stiles grabs Derek's shirt and starts gesturing towards the side door and the laundry room. Derek nods his understanding. 

Stiles quickly shuts the burner off and tentatively picks Elinor up, carrying her to the laundry room. "Why don't we get you cleaned up? At least the glitter won't be as hard to get out of your hair like it was last time. Yaaaay." 

Elinor claps her hands. "Yay!"

Stiles finds a couple of ratty beach towels and lays them on the floor. He quickly removes Elinor's clothes and lays them on the towel. Elinor gets a quick wipe down with a wet paper towel. Stiles rummages through the laundry basket of clean clothes and quickly dresses Elinor in some clean pajamas. "Yay pajama party! Now go find Merida and Hamish and tell them we're having a pajama party." 

Elinor claps her hands and toddles out of the laundry room, chanting. "Merida! Hamish! Pajambas!"

Stiles shakes his head and pokes at the contents under the laundry sink, extracting a can of hairspray and starts treating her glittery clothes. The laundry door opens and Derek and Fergus are there. 

"Did you find a good spot?" 

Derek nods. "I think so." 

Stiles smiles. "Good! I was thinking we could celebrate by having a pajama party. Everybody is going to be wearing pajamas. So why don't you two get ready in here and then we can eat lunch."

\---- 

Eventually Stiles gets back to writing out holiday cards. They were able to limit the glitter damage, but it still took some heavy vacuuming. He tries to make a decent dent in the cards while the children are occupied writing their letters to Santa - Derek is helping them spell and trying to prevent Elinor from eating her crayons. 

But then Stiles has to meet Angus at the bus stop, and dinner has to be made. And then everybody needs a bath, especially Fergus. Hamish then remembers his pipe cleaner ornament in his book bag - which really didn't fare well in the trip home. Stiles tries to straighten it out the best he can. 

So it's late when Stiles finally gets back to finishing the last of the letters. Derek comes down the stairs and sighs when he sees Stiles still sitting at the kitchen table. "Are you still doing that?" 

Stiles yawns and stretches. "Obviously."

Derek wanders over to the table and picks up the Christmas card photo. He smiles as he takes in the sets of glowing eyes in the photograph. "I guess that was hard to explain when you were getting these developed." 

Stiles raises his head. "What? Oh, no, I started just printing them myself at the drugstore. I swear if one more person told me I needed to buy a new camera -" Stiles yawns and massages his hand. 

"You don't need to finish these tonight, Stiles." 

Stiles shakes his head. "If I don't get them done tonight, they'll never get done...and it's important."

"In the scheme of things -"

Stiles shakes his head. "You don't understand because it's networking and you suck at it. But it's one of the only things I can do to keep our family, our pack safe. These cards carry so much information. Hey, this is our pack. See how many werewolves we have - Don't try to mess with us. Look at our human pack members - they humanize us. Whoa, we have a sheriff and a nurse - If you're in our territory and need help, we can do that. Boyd is in Ohio, please be nice to him, he's under our protection. Cora is driving around the country if you want to say hi - she might even take you to a sporting event. We survived another year. We hope you survived too. Have a happy whatever you celebrate." Stiles sighs. "And obviously I'm paraphrasing. But that's why this is important." 

Stiles taps on his big binder. "And we get cards back and they do us the same courtesy and we can judge which packs are our allies and..." 

Derek sighs. "I get it. I get it. Can I do anything to help?"

Stiles laughs. "Now you offer? I'll get you a pen - you can address the envelopes."


	3. Dear Santa Claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles read their children's letters to Santa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold indicates the children's letters being read.

The next day Stiles does errands - mailing the Christmas cards, buying bread. Elinor is his errand buddy, which is fine, it gives Derek a break and there are less baths involved - so it's a win-win. But Stiles could have done without the weird looks from his fellow shoppers. Yes, his child looks like she lost a fight with a blind Edward Scissorhands, thanks for noticing.

So when Stiles gets home and puts Elinor down for a nap, he's definitely in the mood for some amusement. He waits until Derek comes in from tending to the goats and chickens. Stiles is sitting at the counter, head resting on his hands, and watches as Derek washes his hands. "What cha doing?" 

Derek turns to look at Stiles. "What do you want?" 

Stiles starts idly tracing a circle on the counter. "Well, I was thinking that we could go upstairs -" 

Derek nods. "I am game." 

"...And read the kids' L-E-T-T-E-R-S to S-A-N-T-A." 

Derek shakes his head. "And I did not expect that." 

Stiles sits up. "Wait, what did you think I was going to say?" All of Derek's attention is focused on cleaning the counter. "You thought I was referring to S-E-X? You just got some this morning!"

"There isn't a quota."

Stiles looks affronted. "Well, I know that!"

Derek gives Stiles a smoldering look. "What can I say, baby? I just can't get enough of you and your sweet, sweet lovin'." 

Stiles nearly falls off his stool in his laughter. "Oh. My. God. What? Where did you get this?" 

Derek grins. "Lydia left her book behind in the guest bedroom." 

Stiles shakes with laughter. "I can't...on so many levels." 

"Did it work?" 

Stiles shakes his head. "How about we do the reading first - see what the damage is - and then we'll see..."

Derek shrugs nonchalantly. "Works for me."  
\------  
Derek gets situated on the bed as Stiles hurries, quietly, into the room carrying a folder with the label "Taxes". He joins Derek on the bed.  
"What order should we go in?" 

Derek shakes his head. "Why do we need to come up with an order?" 

Stiles rolls his eyes and opens the folder. The first envelope is Merida's. "What if she asks for a knife?" 

"Stiles, she's not going to ask for a knife, she's got claws." 

Stiles nods. "This is true. Punching bag then. What's your bet?" 

"I think she'll want a pet lizard." 

Stiles shakes his head. "That's not happening by the way. I mean Kanima."  
"Agreed, just start reading."

**"Dear Santa, I have been a good girl this year. I have not bitten anyone even if there was a good reason. If I could have roller skates, this wuld be nice. Not pink though. NOT PINK. Love, Merida"**

Stiles shakes his head. "Just so you know 'not pink' is in capital letters and underlined, multiple times. So make a note of that."

"Noted. My turn." 

Derek plucks a letter off of the stack. "Angus. Hmm, I think he's going to want a new video game." 

Stiles nods. "I'll take your video game and raise you a new game system." 

"He just got one!" 

Stiles holds his hands up. "I'm not saying he's getting one, I'm just saying that he might ask for one."

Derek clears his throat and starts to read. 

**"Dear Santa,  
I feel stupid writing you this year. Terry said you weren't real -" **

Derek looks at Stiles. "Wait, he's only in 4th grade, why doesn't he think Santa is real?!" 

Stiles looks at Derek, askance. "Because he's nine?" 

Derek's eyes widen and he looks back down at the letter and continues to read. **"But -"**

"Whoa there, Derek, how old were you when you stopped believing in Santa Claus?"

**"But since I am a werewolf, I thought there might be a chance that you are real too-"**

"Derek, I'm serious, how old were you?" 

Derek glares at Stiles. "I'm not answering that question." 

"10?" 

Derek ignores Stiles and continues his reading. **"I think it would be nice to get a viola. Aunt Lydia said it was important to be well rounded -"**

"11."

**"But at the same time, I wouldn't turn down -"**

"14." 

Derek flinches. **"- A new video game like Grand Masters Supreme -"**

Stiles gasps. "14! How were you 14?" 

Derek rolls his eyes. "People would say werewolves weren't real, so saying Santa wasn't real, not a very convincing argument. Anyway that's basically Angus' letter. Viola and a video game. " 

"Lydia was telling me that Angus' extracurriculars were lacking, so maybe viola..." 

Derek frowns. "But do we really want to have Angus learning a string instrument in the house..." 

"He can take lessons outside of the house." 

Derek cringes at the prospect. "Maybe."

Stiles grabs the next letter. "Oh my god, it's Hamish. This is going to hurt the pocketbook." 

Derek shakes his head. "I can't even fathom - a tie maybe?"

"From the kid who asked for a smoking jacket last year, I'm not even going to guess." 

Stiles clears his throat. 

**"Dear Santa Claus,  
I am not sure if your budget situation is better this year given the state of last years presents -"**

Derek shakes his head in disbelief. "That little -" 

Stiles shakes his head and holds up his hand. **"But, I figured if I asked for one present, your resources would go farther. Your welcome. I've inclooded a printout of my requested gift. Note I have circled 'Classic Tan', this is not a suggestion. Have a produktive December!**

**Sincerely,**

**Hamish Hale"**

Stiles pulls out the printout. "So that's a $700 attaché case." 

"I can definitely tell you a couple things he needs - a smack, a reality check - but that's not one of them." 

Stiles shakes his head." I just...let's just move on"

Derek picks up the next letter. "Elinor." 

Derek and Stiles look at each other. "Goat." 

There's really nothing to read. There's a blob with some lines. Stiles nods. "Looks like a goat to me." 

Derek nods. "I've already been researching stuffed animals." 

Stiles kisses Derek's forehead. "Aww, that's so cute." 

Stiles reaches for the last letter. "And that leaves Fergus!" 

"Night light."

"I was going to say night light too...maybe a blanket then."

Stiles begins to read. 

**“Dear Santa Claws,**

**Hi! How are you doing? I hope you and your elves are doing well. I have been a good boy this year. I have two gifts on my wish list, but I do not know if you can make them happen. I like to read books – do you have any magical artiefacts at the North Pole that would allow me to read a lot of books, but for free –“**

“Did he just describe a library card?”

Stiles scratches his head. “I’m pretty sure he just did. I’ve been meaning to get around to it and now I feel like a horrible parent.” 

“Well it’s not like we’ve been depriving him of books to read. Angus has a lot.” 

“I’ve probably read Socks for Supper like 300 times.” 

Derek cringes. “Yeah…we should get a library card.” 

Stiles rubs his forehead and continues to read. **“ -That would be really good. But I would really really really like a best friend for Christmas. Somebody I can play with and talk to. I have brothers and sisters but it would be nice to have a friend who is only for me. I promise to be a good boy forever if…”**

Stiles stops reading and puts his face in his hands. “Nope, that’s too sad.” 

“Maybe we can arrange a play date or Little League?” 

Stiles shakes his head. “You know as well as I do that Fergus has the least amount of control and I’m pretty sure he would hate Little League.” 

Derek sighs. “We’ll think of something eventually” 

Stiles and Derek sit in silence. 

Derek clears his throat. “Just to be clear the S-E-X is off the table.” 

“Yep.” 

“AL-PAAAAAAAAAAAA!” 

Derek sighs. “I’ll go get Elinor. Hide the evidence?” 

“Sounds like a plan.”


	4. Christmas Errands (Gimme A Beer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have some errands. The sheriff agrees to watch the kids. Children emit unpleasant things - poop and vomit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is pretty long (for me anyway). It also feels a little disjointed. I've also been listening to a lot of Welcome to Night Vale this week, which influenced this chapter, against my wishes. 
> 
> Shannara810 wanted to see how the kids would interact at the police station, so then that happened XD

Children have a strange obsession with toys. They interact with them with all their senses - absorbing the bright colors, flashing lights, obnoxious noises, and even texture. Christmas only heightens these feelings; the mere mention of a particular toy can send a child into a frenzy. Werewolf children are really no different, except they tend to exploit one other sense. Their sense of smell. As soon as a werewolf child becomes obsessed with a toy, submit their request to their parent or Santa, they set about memorizing the scent of the toy. Stiles feels a little sad that an ability that is supposed to help his children locate other pack members or sense danger is relegated to inhaling the scent of plastics and polyfill stuffing. Derek assures Stiles that it's a perfectly normal juvenile werewolf thing. But sometimes Stiles wishes he could walk down the aisle in the store without seeing Merida fervently sniffing a pair of rollerblades, or Fergus with his nose pressed against the plastic film surrounding the toys - trying to get a good scent - but just leaving nose-shaped smudge marks in his wake. And Hamish basically just walks around sniffing clothes, trying to guess the fabric blend. Angus has gotten slightly subtler with age...so there's hope. But it's an understatement to say that other customers and store managers give Stiles nasty looks as he helplessly watches his children sniff the store. The behavior gets worse around Christmas and birthdays. It's all about the presents - where they are hidden, whether they got their requested gift. Other kids might shake their gifts, his kids sniff them.

If his children's behavior is a time-honored tradition among werewolves, so are the various techniques that Derek and Stiles use to counteract present detection and identification. 

Once the majority of the presents have been selected and ordered, a trial in itself, it's time to secure the present detection countermeasures. In older and simpler times, it was common for werewolf parents to wrap presents with foul-smelling items - used socks, cheese, and in more extreme cases fish or manure. Of course, there was always a risk that the presents would also be ruined, but apparently this is still hilarious situation for werewolves. Stiles doesn't really get it, but then again, not a werewolf. But there's really nothing appealing about disposing of rotten fish carcasses or cleaning up the resulting vomit. Nothing. Stiles has effectively nixed the inclusion of seafood in presents. These are more modern times. They use perfume. 

\------ 

Stiles carries Elinor to the van. They're the last to arrive (yay potty training) and Derek has gotten the rest of the kids secured in their booster seats. Stiles secures Elinor in her seat, tickling her stomach. He slides the van door shut and climbs into the front seat. "Okay, we're officially ready to see Grandpa!" 

The majority of the children cheer. Derek waves his hands and joins in, in a decidedly less enthusiastic manner. "Yay." Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek starts the van and starts driving.

"Why?" Elinor chirps from her car seat. 

Stiles crosses his fingers and gives Derek a look. "Because Daddy and Al-pa have some errands to do." The van is silent, Stiles nearly sighs in relief. 

"Why?"

Stiles shakes his head. "Because it's nearly Christmas and there are things to do." 

"Why?" 

"Because Santa gave Daddy and Al-pa a to-do list." There's a prolonged pause but Stiles knows better than to get his hopes up, and Elinor does not disappoint. 

"Why?"

"Because Santa is short-staffed this year." 

"Why?" 

"Well there's reindeer flu going around so a lot of the elves are out sick - when they sneeze glittery boogers come out. The remaining elves are unionized and can only work 9:00 to 5:00. So Santa sent out a special message that he needed extra help this year."

Derek shakes his head, trying not to laugh as he pulls into the Beacon Hill Sheriff's Department's parking lot. 

"Wh-" 

Derek shakes his head. "We're here, Elinor." 

Hamish groans. "Thank _god_."

The sheriff walks out of the building, smiling and waving. Derek and Stiles get out of the car. Stiles waves. 

"Hey Dad! Thanks for watching the kids on such short notice." 

The sheriff shrugs. "Oh, it's no problem. Things are pretty quiet here today..." 

Stiles and Derek wince. 

The sheriff shakes his head. "And now that I've just said that out loud, it's inevitably now going to get busy. But heck Grandpa loves to watch his little monsters." 

Derek gives the sheriff a pointed look. The sheriff laughs and claps him on the back. "Oh relax, Derek, it's a term of endearment. If that Lady Gaga can say it, Grandpa can say it."

Stiles shakes his head. "One, if you're so happy to watch the kids - why don't you offer more often? Two, why are you referring to yourself in the third person? Three, we've talked about -" 

The sheriff shakes his head. "Do you want Grandpa to watch the kids or not?" 

Derek and Stiles give each other a long look before they answer. "Yes."

Stiles' dad claps his hand, rubbing them together. "Grandpa is ready to babysit. You may release the hounds." 

Stiles shakes his head and goes to open the sliding van door. 

"Oh Stiles, the reason why I don't babysit more often is because I want you to appreciate me. I'm like an expensive steak, not hamburger. You don't have it all the time, but when you do, you have to savor the experience. Savor it." 

Stiles shakes his head. "And obviously your new diet is going to your head, what with the red meat references." 

"It's 2025! I should be able to eat red meat. I demand the scientists begin working on this. But nooo they're busy making robot cats who play pinball." 

Stiles shakes his head, grinning, and opens the door. The kids start filing out of the van, clamoring for their grandfather's attention. Stiles unbuckles Elinor's seat harness and hoists her onto his hip. He grabs a bag chock full of supplies. "Hey Dad! Ellie's potty training like a big girl! So there's some leggings and underwear in the bag..." Stiles turns around and sees that his dad is focused on giving 'Grandpa Bear Hugs'. "And you are not listening to me."

Angus and Derek start herding the triplets into the building. Stiles hands Elinor and the bag over to his dad. Stiles rubs Elinor's head and messily kisses her cheek. "Be good for Grandpa, sweetie."

Elinor gives Stiles a wide-eyed look. "Why?" 

Stiles laughs. "Grandpa will tell you, Ellie." 

Stiles' dad shakes his head. "Thanks a lot, Stiles, so I'll be answering 'why' for the next how many hours?" 

Stiles tilts his head, rubbing his chin. " I think four should be plenty. I have to have time to savor the experience, y'know." 

The sheriff glares at Stiles before turning and walking inside. 

"If you have any problems, just call. I have my phone." Stiles shouts after him. 

Stiles climbs back into the van’s front passenger and waits for Derek to return. 

Derek sighs as he climbs into the car. “ I do not envy your dad at all right now. Elinor was still asking questions when I left.”

“Yes, I know she does, and that’s normal for a two year old – helps them expand their vocabulary.” 

“I don’t think she even listens to the answers though. She just waits until after you stop talking and then asks why again.” 

Stiles nods. “This is probably true. I wouldn’t feel too bad for my dad. He’s probably feeling extremely nostalgic. I did the exact same thing apparently.” 

Derek snorts. “Did?” 

Stiles ignores him and looks down at his phone. “Okay, so I’m thinking we’ll hit the library first, and then the mall. Oh yeah, I heard back from Lydia. She’s going to a couple of thrift stores in Pasadena today looking for an attaché case for Hamish...” 

“He doesn’t need an attaché case.” 

“It’s Christmas – it’s not about needing things – because otherwise Hamish would be getting underwear – lots of underwear. And we can’t crush his entrepreneurial spirit.” 

“Because you really need an attaché case to sell cookies.” 

“What are you? An expert cookie salesman?” 

Derek gives Stiles a long look. “Yes.” 

Stiles shakes his head. “Just drive to the library.” 

\-----------------

The sheriff sits down in his chair and stares at the ceiling. He loves his grandkids, but he definitely does not miss the non-stop questions. He had finally been able to distract Elinor with some paper and a ballpoint pen. Angus has been playing some sort of handheld game in the corner, periodically checking on his siblings. Hamish, Fergus, and Merida have been calmly taking turns on the computer, playing games like Solitaire. The sheriff enjoys the calm while it lasts, because he knows it's not going to last long. 

"Grandfather?" 

The sheriff tries not to groan outright. "Yes, Hamish?"

"I'm hungry."

Angus looks up from his video game. "Dad packed snacks in the bag, Hamish." 

Hamish rolls his eyes. "I don't feel like those." 

The sheriff gives Hamish a conspiratorial look. "I don't blame you. Now I may or may not have donuts in the break room. It can be our little secret." 

Hamish starts vibrating with excitement. 

"Does anybody else want a donut?" 

Elinor pays him no attention; busy scribbling and babbling about goats.

The sheriff shakes his head. "Angus, Fergus, Merida? Any takers?" 

Fergus seems to contemplate his options. "Do the donuts contain high fructose corn syrup?" 

The sheriff looks perplexed. "Probably?" 

Fergus shakes his head. "In that case, I will pass. Thank you though." 

Merida is focused on moving a two to the ace. "No thanks, Grandpa." 

Angus shakes his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Okay, Hamish looks like it's just you and me." 

Hamish jumps up and down. "To the donuts." 

"We'll be right back. Angus can you keep an eye on your brother and sisters?" 

Angus looks up from his video game. "Will do." 

The sheriff takes Hamish's hand and guides him towards the break room. "Grandpa and Hamish, getting a donut. " 

They reach the break room and Hamish runs the last couple of feet to the pink and orange box, frantically lifting the lid. 

"Okay, Hamish, pick your donut -" 

"Sheriff Stilinski?" 

"Yes, Lorraine?

"There's a phone call for you on line three."

"Thanks for letting me know, Lorraine, I'll be right there."

The sheriff turns to look at Hamish. "You'll be okay by yourself for a second?" 

Hamish looks up at his grandpa, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and gives him a thumbs up.

\-------

Stiles hits send on the video camera. "Well, I think that's it. Thank you for all your help, Emma."

Emma, the children's librarian at the Beacon Hills Library, nods pleasantly. "Oh, it's no problem. It was exciting. Nobody has asked me to do that before. Please let me know how Fergus likes it." 

Derek looks up from where he's picking up props. "Will do. Thanks again." 

"Well let me walk you gentlemen out. "

Derek and Stiles follow her as Emma escorts them towards the exit. Emma pauses as they pass the front desk. "I didn't give you the library card, did I?" Emma bustles around the corner and opens a drawer, extracting a library card decorated with glittery stickers. "Well here you go!" Emma holds the card out to Stiles. Stiles takes the card and inspects it. He gives Derek a nod. Derek shoves a thick wad of dollar bills into the donation jar. Emma beams. "Thank you! I hope to see your family often at the library." 

Stiles laughs. "We'll be here so often, you'll get tired of our faces." 

Emma giggles and looks back and forth at Derek and Stiles. "If you say so." Emma clears her throat, and straightens her blouse. "Anyway, I have Reading Time with Princess Pete in 15 minutes. I'm glad I could help. Have a nice day!"

Stiles and Derek start walking towards the car. "So I think we can check that off the list."

Derek nods as he opens the trunk door, depositing the box containing the props and video camera. "Have you made any progress on the best friend front?" 

Derek and Stiles get into the car. Stiles pulls on his seatbelt. "I was thinking that we could go through the Christmas cards and try to find kids near Fergus' age that seem like they could be potential best friends. It sounds a little creepy, but I think that could work. I mean they already have being a werewolf in common?"

Derek nods. "That does sound creepy." 

"Really helpful, Derek". 

Derek grins. "But it sounds like that could work. To the mall now?" 

"Yep, I'm going to give my dad a call now, see how things are going." 

\-------

The sheriff picks up line three. "Hello, this is Sheriff Stilinski." 

"Hey Dad! How is it going?" 

"Absolutely fine, Stiles, I have watched the children before."

"Well I just wanted to check in and give you an update. We're heading over to the mall now. We should be back to pick the kids up in about an hour?" 

"Okay. Sounds good. I'll see you then." 

The sheriff hangs up the phone, and heads back towards the break room. When he sees the empty box of donuts, he knows something has gone horribly wrong. He hears a groan and looks around for the source. Hamish is on the floor, clutching his stomach. 

"Hamish! What happened?" 

Hamish groans. "Market research?" 

The sheriff grinds his teeth together. "You. Ate. All. The. Donuts?"

"No..."

"That box was mostly full a minute ago! And you're the only one here...so you tell me what happened. Right now." 

"Lorraine had one! But...I ate the rest."

The sheriff shakes his head and helps Hamish off the ground. "Why would you do that? Those were for the entire office, not just one person. Maybe Grandpa wanted a donut too?" 

Hamish is starting to look a little green around the gills. "I don't feel so good." Sheriff Stilinski tries to direct Hamish towards the trashcan, but they're not even close. Cue the projectile vomit.

\--------

Derek wrinkles his nose, and grimaces. "That one is definitely a contender. It smells very unpleasant - a little like vomit." 

Stiles makes a note of the bottle's label and reaches for yet another strip of paper and bottle of perfume. "Try this one." 

Derek takes a tentative sniff. "Nope. Just smells like vanilla." 

A salesperson with a carnivorous grin stalks towards them, teetering on her precariously high heels. "Can I help you, gentlemen? Our Men's Fragrances are located this way, if you would like to follow me?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Actually we're looking for your worst perfumes if you have any suggestions." 

The salesperson pauses, her nametag says Denise. "Our worst fragrances? I assure you, sir, that all of our perfumes are of a high quality." 

"That's great, Denise, I'm glad you think that. But we're looking for your most vile fragrance concoctions. So unless you can point us towards "the worst" then no, you can't help us." 

Denise gives Stiles a thin smile. "Let's see what we can find, sir. Please follow me."

Denise gestures to a squat clear bottle decorated with red accents. "This is a very popular choice when selecting a fragrance for mother-in-laws and stepmothers. Also for grandmothers that have written you out of their will citing that you have creepy facial expressions." Denise gives Stiles and Derek a feral grin, spritzing the perfume, with a flourish, onto a strip of paper. She waves the strip under their noses. "Make a note of its sweet but acrid scent. The smell of berries and musk...and vomit."

Stiles wrinkles his nose in distaste. Derek starts gagging. Denise grabs a canister of coffee beans and holds it under Derek's nose. "Please make use of the scent cleanser, sir."

Derek takes a deep breath. "I am pretty sure that's the one." 

Denise smiles widely. Stiles can imagine himself disappearing into her yawning maw. "Would you like the larger size?" 

Stiles gives Derek a frightened look. "I think the larger size would be fantastic. Thank you so much for all your help, Denise." 

\--------

Everything is covered in vomit. The sheriff wipes some vomit off of his face and stares at Hamish. "Feeling better?" 

Hamish nods. "Much." 

The sheriff sighs and reaches for the paper towels. "Let's see what we can get cleaned up...and maybe we can find a change of clothes." 

The sheriff wipes up what he can and gingerly picks Hamish up. "And now to the bathroom. Hey Lorraine?" 

Lorraine walks into view. "Yes, Sheriff?" 

"Do we have any T-shirts left over from the 5K? 

Lorraine takes in the state of the break room. "Uh-huh, I'll go check...and get a mop." 

The sheriff sighs. "Thanks Lorraine." 

Hamish nods. "Thanks Lorraine." 

The sheriff gives Hamish a look. "You be quiet right now."

Beacon Hills' Sheriff's Department, is a small one. There's a separate bathroom for the people in lock-up, but there's a unisex toilet for everybody else. So when the sheriff goes about soaking their shirts and pants in the bathroom sink, he doesn't really appreciate the constant banging on the door, despite him stating that the bathroom is occupied. 

"Sheriff?" 

"Lorraine?"

"I've found some T-Shirts, Sheriff. But your grandson and your granddaughter are standing out here and it looks like -" 

The sheriff opens the door. Lorraine takes a quick look at the sheriff standing there in his underwear before averting her eyes. "Why don't I see if those sweatpants are still in the Lost and Found..." 

"Thanks Lorraine." The sheriff pulls Angus and Elinor into the restroom. 

Elinor is jumping up and down. "I gotta potty, Grampa." 

The sheriff sighs. "Okay, darling, let's get you on the toilet." 

"No, no, no, you gotta put paper down."

The sheriff rolls his eyes and starts trying to wrestle the toilet seat cover out of its slot without tearing it. He pauses when he smells a familiar smell. When he turns to look at Elinor, his suspicions are confirmed. Elinor is visibly upset. 

"It's okay, Ellie, don't cry. That was Grandpa's fault. We'll get you cleaned up. No problemo."

\-------------  
Derek and Stiles get out of the van in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department parking lot.

“I’m just saying that we should talk to Deaton about the perfume salesperson, Stiles.” 

“Was she creepy? Yes. Did I fear for my life? Yes. Did I sense anything about her person that would warrant Deaton getting involved? No.”

“I’m telling you. She had no smell. It was like a scent void.” 

Stiles purses his lips. “We’ll keep an eye on it. But it’s not worth interrupting Deaton’s vacation.”

When Derek and Stiles open the door to the building, they find Hamish staring at a man handcuffed to a deputy's desk. "You're lying." 

The man scoffs at Hamish's accusation. "Well you're not wearing pants." 

He has a point. Hamish is just sitting there in his underwear and an over-sized T-shirt. 

Stiles waves at the deputy behind the desk. "Hey Lorraine! How is it going?" 

"It's been better." 

Elinor comes running out of the sheriff's office. "Daddy!" 

Stiles instantly notices she's wearing her change of clothing. Stiles picks Elinor up, giving her a tight hug. "And were you good for Grandpa?" 

Ellie nods emphatically. "Yes." 

Stiles sees his dad walk out of his office wearing the same T-shirt as Hamish, and a pair of too tight sweatpants. He's carrying a plastic bag full of wet clothes. Merida, Angus, and Fergus are following him. The sheriff throws the bag at Derek and then tiredly pats the children on the head. “Grandpa loves his little monsters.” 

Stiles cues the children. “We love you too, Grandpa”. They chant in unison. 

The sheriff smiles tiredly and waves weakly before returning to his office. “Grandpa needs a drink.” He mutters. 

Stiles and Derek herd the children to the car while Hamish and Angus give them a play-by-play of the afternoon’s events. Stiles scratches his forehead and gives Derek a look. “Yeah, I’m thinking a gift card for Dad is not going to cut it this year.” Derek nods grimly in agreement.


	5. It's My Party...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Angus' birthday! Stiles answers a lot of phone calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really happy with this chapter. But it was going on forever and ever and ever. :/ So yes, the ending is really rushed. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this story, commenting, leaving kudos, etc. It means a lot. :)

Birthdays are strange. There's almost an expectation that you will be able to feel the heft of that extra year or wake up transformed into a different, but better version of yourself. It doesn’t work like that, but reality really does nothing to derail these expectations, which inevitably leads to disappointment. In order to deal with this disappointment, you settle for the next best thing that everybody you know and basically the universe will magically know that it is your day of birth and will lavish you with the recognition and good fortune that frankly you deserve. 

Well it doesn't really work like that either. 

But Stiles and Derek try to make birthdays a happy occasion in their family. It's a little difficult when it's the triplets' birthday - negotiating their likes and wants is a bit like wrestling with a three-headed beast. For example, Fergus likes Funfetti, Merida likes Devil's Food, and well Hamish likes anything as long as it doesn't come out of a box. Stiles doesn't mess with baking anything from scratch, so Derek usually ends up baking the birthday cake or birthday Pavlova in Angus' case. It would be hilarious if Derek wasn't so good at baking, because everything is always delicious and there's nothing funny about a perfectly executed gluten-free croquembouche. It's the little things that count. 

Angus' birthday presents its own challenges. December 10th, an innocent looking date, but dwarfed by the holiday colossus that is Christmas. For some reason, people, i.e. Peter, think it's okay to just give Angus a Christmas present. Angus is a good kid and all, but lumping his birthday in with a religious figure's arbitrary date of birth really is not acceptable. 

But this year is going to be different; because Angus is turning 10 and Stiles is determined that Angus' golden birthday will be a good one. 

\-----

Stiles opens Angus' bedroom door and tiptoes into the room. He pauses when he notices that Mo is missing from his usual place - tucked under Angus' arm. The brown cow sits forlornly on the chair in the corner. Stiles stares wistfully at the brown cow, it seems like only yesterday that Mo and Angus were doing everything together - making mud pies, taking post-mud pie baths, reading books and...

"What are you doing?" 

Stiles looks over at Angus, still curled up in a sleepy little ball. 

"The birthday boy awaketh!" Stiles sits on Angus' bed, rubbing his warm little back in lazy circles. "Happy Birthday, Angus. My first little hushpuppy turns 10 today." 

Angus groans sleepily. "Don't remind me. Birthdays are stupid."

Stiles sighs. "Well, I'll just have to tell Al-Pa to throw away the birthday pancakes he's making."

Angus cracks one eye open. "I didn't say birthday pancakes were stupid."

"Well they're downstairs waiting for you, birthday boy." 

Angus rolls over onto his back and sighs, staring at the ceiling. "You play dirty , Dad." 

Stiles laughs as he leaves the room. "It took you 10 years to figure that out?"

Stiles is still shaking his head in amusement as he heads down the stairs, when the phone rings. Stiles flails towards the phone, trying to pick it up before it can wake Elinor. 

Derek pours the pancake batter into elaborate shapes, shaking his head at Stiles' antics.

Stiles regrets his haste in answering the phone, because if he had checked the caller ID, he would not have picked up. 

"Diane...hi." 

_"Stiles. I was just calling to let you know that Parker won't be coming to Angus' party today."_

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Oh I'm sorry to hear that. Did he come down with something?" 

Diane laughs derisively and Stiles wants to throttle her. Derek is frowning intensively at the pancakes. 

_"Oh nothing as mundane as that. Daniel and I surprised Parker with a trip to Hawaii."_

"But there's still a week and a half of school left..." 

_"Oh Stiles, if you go to Hawaii for anything less than two weeks, it's just a waste of time. "_

"If you say so, Diane. I'm just a little confused because you've known about the party for at least a month."

_"Well they say spontaneity is the spice of life."_

"Okay. Thanks for letting me know. Have a good trip." 

Stiles angrily hangs up the phone and starts yelling at it. "I hope your trip is a re-enactment of the TV show, Lost, and you're eaten by a polar bear - spontaneity is the spice of life my ass!"

Derek carefully flips his pancake before addressing Stiles. "Diane's not worth getting upset over. She's inconsiderate and pretentious. It's sad that Parker won't be able to come to Angus' party...but at least we won't have to actually interact with her for three hours." Derek slides the pancake onto a plate. "Because I wouldn't want to be brought down to her level - smiling and spewing thinly-veiled barbs- in front of the children. " 

Stiles nods sagely. "This is true. When you smile around Diane, it's really a sign of aggression. It's really obvious...and a little creepy." 

Derek gives Stiles a skeptical look. "From the guy that was yelling at the phone referencing a television show from 20 years ago." 

Stiles purses his lips. "You may have a point."

Angus walks down the stairs, unenthusiastically. "So Mrs. Wogeman called then. What exotic locale are they jetting off to this year?"

Stiles sighs. "Hawaii."

"I figured as much." Angus intones dully.

Stiles claps his hands. "It'll be okay, buddy. We'll have fun..." Stiles gestures to Derek as he slides some cow-shaped pancakes onto Angus' plate. "And there's pancakes."

The phone rings. Stiles carefully checks the caller ID this time and tries not to groan. He stares at the phone while it rings. Angus gives Stiles a weird look at he shoves carefully dissected cow pancakes into his mouth. "Dad, why aren't you answering the phone?" 

Stiles shakes his head and picks up the phone. "Hello there!"

_"Stiles! Oh my god. I was so worried, because you weren't picking up, and I didn't know if you were busy with stuff. Because obviously you are busy with stuff because you have five kids, but you know...busier with stuff. And it's the morning and you have to get the kids to school -"_

"Darby! Hi! What did you need?" Stiles notices in the corner of his eye that Derek is perfectly still, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

_"Well I just want you to know that I really appreciate all the effort that Derek puts in to provide desserts that are friendly for all the kids, dietarily. I don't know why the desserts would be mean, unless they had frowny faces, but I don't really know -"_

Stiles shakes his head. "Darby, your point?" 

_"Sorry! I feel bad, but we've decided that animal products aren't good news any more...like it's the cruelty and everything. So we've decided to go vegan!"_

Stiles frowns at Derek. "Congratulations?" 

_"Oh thank you! It's really important that you support our decision. My mother-in-law is very against it and she keeps moaning about it to Oscar and it's really stressing me out -"_

"I'm sorry to hear that Darby, but the point?" 

_"I was getting to it, I promise. I mean Derek has always done a great job providing gluten-free treats for the party, but I was wondering if he could do something for the party that is both gluten-free and vegan. Roscoe hasn't really been on board -"_

Derek starts moaning loudly. It sounds like a wounded animal. 

_"What's that noise? OMG, STILES? DID SOMEBODY GET HURT!?!"_

Stiles looks frantically between the phone and Derek. "Uh, just a little -- I'll call you right back, Darby." Stiles hangs up the phone. "Derek?" 

Derek is shaking his head. "I'm not doing it." 

Stiles looks puzzled. Angus just nonchalantly keeps eating his pancakes. 

"Gluten-free and vegan. It's not happening." Derek gives Angus a desperate look. "Do you still want to be friends with Roscoe?" 

Angus frowns at Derek. "I only have two best friends. The other one is going to be in Hawaii." 

Derek gives Stiles a desperate look. " Non-dairy chocolate. Egg replacers. We have chickens. Why would I want to use egg replacers?" 

Stiles shakes his head. "Can you think of anything to make that doesn't use chocolate and/or eggs -"

The phone rings. Derek starts shaking his head. "Don't answer it." 

"If it's Darby, she's just going to keep calling back." Stiles picks up the phone. "Hello." 

_"Stiles? It's Oscar. Darby is intent on driving over to yours to make sure you guys haven't been murdered."_

"I hope you stopped her, we're all fine. Derek just...stubbed his toe. Darby doesn't have to come over." 

_"Well Darby is a nurse so if Derek needs medical attention."_

"Nope, everybody is fine. That's really not necessary." 

_"Oh okay, good then. I don't know if Darby mentioned it, but we've gone vegan."_

"Yes. I heard. Congratulations?" 

_"It sucks. I hate it. I'm this close to murdering a pig with my bare hands."_

Stiles gives Derek a nervous look. "Wow. That's maybe a little too much information, Oscar." 

_"I know. I know. Anyway, if Derek could work his culinary magic. I mean I love Darby and she saw these videos and she was just crying for hours...because she just loves so much. And it's hard because I love Darby...but I also love bacon. But I'm married to Darby and it's my responsibility to make sure she's happy but then they say you are what you eat. I'm going to be fake meat. What does that say about me? Does it mean I'm fake? Am I a poor imitation of a human being?"_

There's a long pause. Stiles shakes his head. "Sorry Oscar, I thought that was a rhetorical question. You know what, give me a little time to mull over that heavy revelation. I'll see what Derek can do for tonight. Bye." Stiles hangs up and puts the phone down and exhales. He takes a minute to collect himself before turning towards Derek. "So have you decided how you're going to work your 'culinary magic'?" 

Derek gives him an intense look. "We have coconut milk. I'll figure something out. But I'm not happy about it." 

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Your dissatisfaction is noted." Stiles walks over to Angus and gives him a bear hug. "My birthday boy. How were the birthday pancakes?" 

"Good." Angus nods, reaching for his glass of milk.

Stiles smiles. "Good! Well I'm going to get your brothers and sisters up, so brace for impact." There's a series of thumps upstairs. "Or maybe they're up already."

A trio of furballs, clad only in underwear, stampede down the stairs. A puppy trails behind them, carefully navigating the stairs.  
A wolfed out Merida picks up the puppy and pushes it towards Angus. "I got you a birthday puppy, Angus." 

Angus holds the puppy, rubbing its belly. Stiles shakes his head. "You don't give your little sister as a present." The triplets start hugging Angus, rubbing their hairy little faces all over Angus' shirt. Stiles shakes his head. "I'm going to get the lint roller."

By the time Stiles comes back with the lint brush, the children are pushing their homemade presents towards Angus. Derek is making funny faces at Elinor trying to convince her to shift back. Fergus shows Angus a picture. "And so any time you want a hug, you just let me know."

Angus nods. "Thanks. Fergus. Great birthday present."

Hamish brushes Fergus aside. "And now that we've got the hug coupons out of the way, you're ready for your real present." Hamish deposits two vending machine toy capsules and then hesitates before placing a third one on the table. "Happy birthday." 

Angus pokes at the pastel plastic eggs. "Ha. Thanks, Hamish."

"You are very welcome." Hamish says with a pleased smile. He looks down at Angus' empty plate and his smile fades. "Wait, Angus got pancakes? How is that fair?"

"It's Angus' birthday hence the birthday pancakes."

Hamish crosses his arms and pouts. "Well that's not a good reason." 

Stiles nods. "Uh-huh. And you think that eating an entire box of donuts _is_ a good reason that you should have pancakes." 

"It wasn't the whole box." Hamish protests. 

"Yeah, how about you get some clothes on. That goes for all of the naked children. Bus comes in...half an hour. I want to see that werewolf speed in action." 

The children slowly start heading up the stairs. Derek follows them carrying Elinor. "You call that speed! Al-Pa is going to eat you up at this point." The children run up the stairs, giggling.

\----- 

Stiles is tidying up the chaos in the kitchen after the kids have left for school. Derek sits with Elinor as she eats her food, trying to keep the food in the vicinity of her mouth. The phone rings. Stiles answers it exasperated. 

"Hello."

_"Oh. Is this the Hale household?"_

"Yes. May I ask who is calling?" 

_"This is Naomi Fukumoto. I got an e-mail about setting up -"_

Stiles makes a squeaking noise and throws the phone at Derek, who catches it, but not before giving Stiles an aggravated look. "Dr. Fukumoto, I'm Derek Hale, how are you doing today?" 

"Yes, don't mind my mate, he was a Classics major and apparently he's a fan..."

Derek listens to her response and gives Stiles a wolfish grin. "Well I will have to tell him you said that." 

Stiles hides his face embarrassed.

Elinor starts stabbing the table with her spoon. Derek laughs as he gently wrestles the spoon away from her. "I'm glad you like the idea. Sometimes it's hard to make friends when you're different." 

Stiles rolls his eyes and brings the dishes over to the sink. 

"Stiles will be in touch with more details. I think Fergus and Hypatia will have fun writing each other."   
Derek nods. "Okay. Thanks, I will. You too."

Derek hangs up the phone and looks at Stiles. "And you say I don't have any social skills."

Stiles shakes his head. “ I should just go back to bed. This day is not going well at all.” 

“Naomi said she’s a fan of your books too.” 

“No way!” 

\--------

The rest of the day passes in a blur. When Angus got home from school, the house was completely decorated. There were gold streamers. Roscoe and a couple of kids from Angus' class showed up, and the party went well. There was pizza, a ton of sugar, and some presents that were not wrapped in Christmas-themed paper (even though Darby is kind of kooky, she definitely gets points for being a considerate person). Hamish only snuck away with four helpings of teff brownies, an improvement over last year, and at least there was no vomit this time. 

Stiles opens Angus’ door and peeks in. Angus is sleeping soundly. Mo is tucked under his arm. Stiles smiles and closes the door.


	6. Dirty Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gifts are a big part of Christmas, but where does a six year old get money?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the beginning of this chapter has basically been rotting on my cell phone for a couple of weeks, but I have a group project and I'm procrastinating (because dealing with group projects is really stressful), so I kind of put something together really quickly...so keep that in mind when you notice the inevitable typo, etc. :D

Things really get hectic once the kids are out for winter break. Pack members start migrating back to the Hale house. Cora and Boyd arrive separately, but apparently sleep together in Cora's trailer. They deny any romantic involvement. But whenever Cora and Boyd are in the vicinity of the faux mistletoe decorating the house, they start fidgeting and asynchronously sending wistful looks each other's way. Stiles has offered $20 to whoever can get Cora and Boyd under the mistletoe. The competition is getting a bit out of hand. Hamish has already feigned injury -twice, yelling for Boyd and Cora to help. Isaac has baked cookies, leaving them underneath the mistletoe, but nobody ever wants Isaac's cookies.

Once Lydia submits her grades for her students at Caltech, she flies to France and spends a week luxuriating at the Hôtel Plaza Athénée Paris. Lydia asserts that it’s the only way she has the energy to deal with the pack at Christmas. Stiles nearly coughed up a lung when she told him how much it cost. Stiles doesn't really buy her rationale for the expenditure. On a good day Stiles gets 10 minutes to himself in the bathroom and he deals with the holidays just fine.

Peter always wanders in annoyingly tan from his yearly pre-Christmas celebration. His vacation destinations usually consist of a beach, copious amounts of alcohol, and scantily clad women. It's also annoying because his souvenirs double as his Christmas presents and he gets the same thing for everyone. The kids have gotten shot glasses for the past five years. 

Holidays, the most wonderful time of the year.

\----------

Cora walks into the kitchen giving the mistletoe and Isaac's cookies a wide berth. Peter is reading a newspaper. He's flanked by Merida and Fergus who are focused on making paper chains.

Peter looks up from his newspaper. "Oh look, it's Sporty Spice." 

Cora sneers. "Oh look, it's Scary Spice." 

Peter turns the page. "Don't be silly, I'm obviously Posh Spice."

Cora shakes her head. "Derek's Posh Spice." 

Merida looks up from her paper chain. "What are you guys talking about?" 

Fergus nods. "I know about pepper, but I don't know any of those."

Cora and Peter look at each other. Peter shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." 

Cora opens the fridge and peers inside. "So where is everybody?"

Peter brusquely flips a page. "Stiles, that Argent girl, and Lydia are out doing errands - Olivia and Elinor are with them. Derek went out to see about a Christmas tree. I believe Angus, Isaac, Scott, and Boyd are with him. " Peter gives Cora a sidelong look. "Though I would have thought judging by your love nest in that hideous contraption you call a home that you would know where Boyd is." 

"There's no love nest." Cora splutters.

Peter gives her a long look over the paper. "Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that." 

Cora rolls her eyes. "We're just friends." 

"With benefits?" 

Cora glares at Peter before looking around. "Wait, where's Hamish?"

Peter sighs. "How should I know? I was told to supervise the child laborers, I'm not babysitting."

"I seriously doubt that Stiles said that."

Peter gives Cora an enigmatic look. Cora huffs in annoyance. "When did you last see Hamish?"

Peter shrugs. "It was a while ago."

"You're unbelievable. This is Beacon Hills, what if he's been kidnapped? What if he's hurt somewhere?" 

Peter turns the page. "It builds character."

The door swings open, hitting the wall with a bang. A mud monster trudges into the house dragging a dirty pillowcase. 

Peter looks up from his paper. "Hamish. What took you so long?" 

The mud monster collapses on the floor and moans. "Uncle Peter, I asked you to invest my money not bury it a bazillion feet underground." 

"You're overreacting, it was six feet, if anything, and that's me being generous. And I did invest it. You have what $100 in change in that pillowcase. Here's $10. That's a 10% return on your investment. You won't be able to get that anywhere else." 

"It's $113.76." 

Peter rolls his eyes and pulls out another dollar bill. "Fine. $11." 

Hamish gives Peter a skeptical look. "And 37 cents." 

Peter's eyes flash blue. "Don't press your luck." 

Hamish runs over and snatches the money before Peter changes his mind. "Pleasure doing business with you." 

"Yeah, yeah. Go clean yourself up, kid. You're a mess." 

Hamish, clutching his $11, trots back to his pillowcase. The floor is now littered with leaves, sticks, and clumps of mud. 

Stiles walks into the house, he's holding the mail in one hand, and Elinor's hand in the other. He's looking back at Allison and Lydia, smiling, and babbling away. "...And then he said she said she was a fan of my books." Stiles frowns when he sees the shock on Lydia and Allison’s faces. "What's wrong?" Stiles looks around and his smile fades as he takes in the mess. "What happened in here?" He punctuates each word with a flail of his arms. Olivia and Elinor break off from the group and run away giggling at Stiles’ antics. 

Allison shakes her head. "I told you letting Peter babysit was a mistake." 

Peter starts slowly clapping. "And the prize for the most obvious statement ever goes to..." 

Allison glares. “Y’know I have knives, right?” 

Peter crosses his arms. “Bring it, preggo.” 

A knife materializes in Allison’s hand. 

Stiles laughs. “ We all know that this would be a totally lame beginning to a blood feud, right? Well, kids, it all started in the Winter of 2025 when Peter Hale made a sarcastic remark which led to a bloody battle right here in our kitchen. So let’s just skip me having to clean up blood as well as mud. Sound good? And that’s not really a question by the way.” Stiles claps his hands together. “Hamish, down to your skivvies buddy. May I inquire as to how you ended up covered in mud?” 

Hamish looks more than a little guilty as he tries to slide his quarter-filled pillowcase out of the way. The noticeable metallic rustle as the pillowcase moves across the floor ruins any attempt at subtlety. 

Stiles nods his head with his sudden revelation. “That’s the money from Chuck E. Cheese, isn’t it?” 

Hamish shrugs nonchalantly. “Not all of it is from Chuck E. Cheese.” 

Stiles sighs. “Go clean yourself up. I’ll go find a jar or something for your money.”

Hamish nods, quickly stripping to his underwear, and hurrying up the stairs. He pauses and runs back down. “I almost forgot! I need to do my Christmas shopping. Could you take me, Lydia? Daddy doesn’t do it right. Pretty please.”

Lydia looks a little surprised and gives Stiles a panicked look. “ Uh. I guess so, but your dad seems perfectly capable of taking you shopping…” 

Hamish holds up a hand, shaking his head vehemently. “ I don’t pay retail.” 

Lydia gives Hamish an approving look. “Oh, you are definitely my favorite.” 

Hamish tilts his head in acknowledgement. “I didn’t ask for your approval, but thank you.” 

Stiles exchanges the mail for the soiled pillowcase. “Get a move on Macklemore.” 

Hamish starts dancing and singing. “I’m going to pop some tags.” Stiles starts ushering him up the stairs. 

Lydia gives Allison a confused look. “They lost me at Chuck E. Cheese money…, “ she whispers. 

Allison rolls her eyes. “Hamish was banned from Chuck E. Cheese. It probably has something to do with that. .”

Cora puts down her glass of orange juice. “How does one get banned from Chuck E. Cheese?”

Peter chuckles from the kitchen table. “You wouldn’t know, Cora, since you spend the majority of your time gallivanting around the country, but Hamish is quite the entrepreneur. He would hover around the token machine waiting for children to bring money to change into tokens. His pitch was that if they gave him half of their money, he would guarantee they would get any prize they wanted, after a consultation, of course. Apparently, he’s quite the skee ball master. He’d make change and draw up contracts on napkins. He even had a couple of regulars. It was quite the little enterprise. Let’s just say Chuck E. Cheese was less than impressed. Hamish yelling that they were all chumps didn’t help matters.”

Merida rubs the glue stick on her strip of paper. “Hamish got me the soccer ball I wanted.”

“ I got a penguin.” Fergus adds, nodding solemnly. 

“It went on for weeks. When Derek and Stiles found out, they wanted Hamish to return the money, but he said he’d spent it, which as we all know now, was a lie. Well, actually, they knew he was lying then but they searched everywhere for the money and couldn’t find it… because I hid it.” Peter grins slyly. 

Cora rubs her forehead and walks away. “How am I related to you people…,” she mutters to herself. 

Peter smiles. He’s satisfied with Cora’s reaction. He looks down at the table and notices a package on the table and frowns. “Naomi Fukumoto?” Not the Fukumoto Pack? Like the one in Seattle.” 

Allison and Lydia nod. “I’m pretty sure that’s who Stiles was talking about earlier.” Allison adds. 

Cora pauses in her retreat. “ Why is this a big deal?” 

Peter shakes his head. “The Fukumoto Pack has always been particularly insular, even for werewolves. They’re basically an unknown entity. All I know is that’s a small pack but a strong one, vicious. I heard they lived for years on Mount Rainier to avoid the internment camps…” Peter shakes his head. “Talia – Talia always left them alone. I think it should stay that way. “

Fergus pauses in his paper chain making. “Maybe we should leave them alone too. They sound scary. If Uncle Peter is scared…” 

Allison puts her hand on Fergus’ shoulder. “People change, sweetie. Sometimes, you’ve just got to give them an opportunity to show it.“ Allison gives Peter a pointed look. 

Peter rolls his eye. “Real subtle there, Allison.”

Cora rolls up the newspaper and throws it at Peter. 

The situation quickly devolves into a playful fight, throwing pages of the newspaper, the carefully constructed paper chains. Derek, Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Angus return from their errands, they are met with a kitchen and living room covered in mud and confetti. It’s very puzzling. When Stiles comes down from helping Hamish get cleaned up, he nearly blows a gasket when he sees the mess. Peter spends the rest of the afternoon cleaning it all up.


	7. Trials and Tree-bulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's December 24th. The pack start decorating the tree or try to anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very, very, very, very, very short update. I feel really bad. I'm pretty sure I started this fic back in July and now it's November and that's kind of sad. This update, I guess, is to represent that this story isn't dead. Grad school/work/fieldwork has just been sucking the life out of me, and then when I do have a little amount of free time, I can somehow find other things to do instead of updating (watching Due South, reading House of Hades, sleeping). 
> 
> But I somehow ended up ahead of schedule on my assignments (not really sure how that happened) and so have a tiny!update.

December 24th 

Hamish waltzes into the room, carefully surveying his surroundings. He sidles up to the counter and clambers atop a stool before plunging his hand into one of the many bowls of popcorn. He grabs a handful of popcorn and shoves it into his mouth. His cheeks subsequently puffing out like a demented chipmunk. He chews greedily, eyes darting between the bounty before him and the staircase. He tilts his head as he listens to the sound of footsteps upstairs. The steps get louder. Hamish looks at the popcorn bowls before him and considers his options. Keeping an eye on the stairs, he starts grabbing handfuls of popcorn, shoving them into his pockets. He pulls his sweater in front of him, creating a little pouch, and tips the content of the bowl into it. Hamish sees a tendril of tinsel coming down the stairs and he darts away into the relative safety of the laundry room. He watches his dad deposit an armload of tinsel onto the sofa. Angus carefully places a large cardboard box on the coffee table. His dad looks around casually taking an inventory of their items and then his eyes snap to the kitchen counter.

“Hamish!”

Angus looks up, startled by their dad’s sudden outburst. Until he sees the ravaged popcorn bowl and he shakes his head. “He’s hiding in the laundry room, Dad.” 

Stiles looks towards the laundry room, directly into Hamish’s eyes and the jig is up. Hamish lets out an anguished howl, “You’re such a rat, Angus! I HATE YOU.”

Stiles points at a spot on the floor. “Hamish. Hale. You come here. Right. Now.”

Hamish trudges reluctantly out of the laundry room. Stiles holds out the popcorn bowl and Hamish starts sullenly putting the popcorn back in the bowl. 

"When I said 'Don't eat the popcorn', I was not issuing you a challenge to try to eat the popcorn. If you're hungry, you can have a snack - I can make you popcorn, but you know we're going to use this popcorn to decorate the tree. And it's plain, stale popcorn, Hamish. I really don't see the appeal."

Hamish pouts. " I like the texture between my teeth."

"While that may be true, it's important that you're able to control yourself to some degree. I know Al-pa has been working with you on this."

Hamish starts to protest. "I'm really good at controlling myself!"

Angus coughs in the background. "Advent calendar." 

Hamish's eyes glow yellow and he pounces on Angus. "You're such a rat!"

The living room is soon filled with the sounds of rough housing and growling. 

Stiles looks at his boys rolling around on the floor. "What about the Advent calendar?" 

The boys roll into the coffee table, jostling it." 

"Hey! Watch the decorations!"

This is the scene that greets Derek, Boyd, Scott, Deaton, and Merida as they struggle to bring the tree, freshly cut from the local national forest, through the door.

Derek overreacts when he realizes Grandma's paper decorations are in danger and starts to growl menacingly at the boys. Angus unused to such a scolding dissolves into tears. It's not pretty. There's also a lot of snot. 

But eventually Hamish proffers a bowl of popcorn and Angus starts laughing through his stuttering sobs.

Eventually everybody gets settled. The tree is guided into a stand. Deaton does his emissary thing somehow ensuring that the pack won’t succumb to the evils of winter. Lydia and Allison return from the supermarket with Fergus, Olivia, and Elinor in tow. The pack sits together stringing popcorn onto floss and laughing. Hamish sneaks a piece of popcorn here and there. The tree is decorated with the strands of popcorn, dates, apples, nuts, lights and tinsel. Derek carefully opens the cardboard box containing Grandma’s paper flowers. Each child gets to place a flower of the tree. Elinor and Olivia get a little more help especially since there seems to be an impromptu competition of who can place their paper flower higher on the tree. Scott and Derek are more than happy to oblige, jostling back and forth.

At the end of the day, there’s a tree twinkling merrily in the corner. The pack sits together sipping on hot chocolate taking in the sight. The holidays are stressful, but quiet moments like this somehow make it worth it.


	8. It's the Thought That Counts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hale Pack opens their presents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was beginning to think that this fic would never get done because of writer's block, school, procrastination, etc. It's sad to think that this was published back in July and it's just now being completed (JUST in time for Christmas) - It's a Christmas miracle lol. 
> 
> I experimented a little bit with this chapter (because I had no idea how I was going to write it) so hopefully it works and/or it's not too annoying :D
> 
> Merry Christmas!

Derek and Stiles sit on the couch in the dark living room. Stiles stares bleakly through the window at Cora's trailer. He flaps his hand tiredly at a thermos, fumbling the lid off, and desperately sipping some coffee. He hunches over his plastic cup of coffee grumbling, "It's 3:00 in the morning, go to sleeeeeep already." 

A snore interrupts the relative quiet of the living room and Stiles nearly drops his coffee in surprise. He digs his elbow into Derek's side. "Are you sleeping!?", he hisses. 

Derek jerks his head up. "I'm not sleeping." 

Stiles shakes his head. " Sure, you weren't. Are the kids sleeping or not?" 

Derek frowns at the trailer, listening. "They're sleeping." 

"Oh thank god. Let's wrap these presents, put them under the tree, and get to bed."  
\--------  
Cora looks wryly at the mangled looking pile of presents underneath the tree. "Do you think Santa's elves were tired?"

Derek frowns at the pancakes he's cooking on the griddle.

"I think you mean Santa's rejects." Peter chimes in.

Derek growls at Peter. "I didn't see you helping so you can't criticize."

Peter coolly takes a sip of his coffee. Derek gives Peter a long look before he gives the oatmeal his full attention. The silence in the kitchen is broken by a burst of frantic screaming and howling. The front door slams open as Angus, Merida, Hamish, and Fergus run into the house. The living room is filled with their barely comprehensible clamoring. 

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" 

"SANTA CAME!"

"PRESENTS!" Hamish yells, rushing towards the tree. His excitement is short-lived. "It smells like FARTS," he cries, scrambling away from the tree.

Derek, Cora, and Peter try to hide their smirks. 

Derek winces as he hears a plaintive cry from upstairs. "It looks like Ellie is up. I was hoping Stiles would get to sleep longer."

A tired and bedraggled Stiles appears in the kitchen. A perkier looking Boyd carries a hiccupping, red-faced Elinor. 

Boyd sits down at the table and bounces Elinor on his knee. "Merry Christmas. " 

Stiles looks numbly at the coffee maker, slapping at the buttons. 

Derek steps in and guides Stiles to a chair. "You just sit down and rest, I'll make you a cup."

Lydia walks into the kitchen looking immaculate and well rested. "You're obviously missing out on a great business opportunity - use your children's caterwauling in alarm clocks - I don't believe anybody could sleep through that."

Stiles gives Lydia a dull, tired look. Lydia pauses in her diatribe. "And...Merry Christmas."

Derek starts to corral the children towards the kitchen table. " I think everybody will feel better once we have breakfast." 

Hamish waved his hands about. "But the presents are right there."

"And they'll still be there after breakfast".

Home Video 12/25/25 6:45

[Opens with a toddler with lopsided curls shaking a small package]

Stiles: Derek, take that package away from Elinor, please. 

[Derek rushes over to Elinor taking away the small package and exchanging it with a larger gift]   
Derek: Try opening this one, Ellie. 

[Derek takes small package away]  
Derek: You don't give a shot glass to a toddler, Peter. 

Stiles: Anyway what did Santa bring you, Ellie?

[Elinor struggles to unwrap the present. Hamish scoots across the floor to help her] 

Ellie (shrieking): IT'S A GOATS.   
[Ellie proceeds to drag the oversized goat stuffed toy around the room] 

Stiles: Santa did a good job, huh? Who's next? 

Cora: This one says To Hamish. From Satan.

[laughter fills the room] 

Stiles: No. It doesn't. Gimme one sec. 

[static]   
Stiles: I promise you, Hamish, your attaché case is not from the devil. Santa was probably tired and switched a couple of letters about. The man delivers presents to the whole world in one night - cut him some slack. You did not barter your soul especially if there was no handshake, verbal agreement, or signature.

Fergus: Can I open my present from Santa now, please?

Derek: Sure, Gus Gus.

[Fergus starts to carefully remove the wrapping paper. He extracts a glittery library card and a video disk. He looks at the camera in confusion] 

Stiles: Does the disk say anything? 

[Fergus examines the disk]  
Fergus: Play me? 

Derek: I've got the player set up. 

[Fergus puts the disk in and presses play] 

[A woman draped in a blue cloth appears on screen. Candles surround her] 

Woman: Fergus Hale. Greetings. I, The Keeper of Knowledge, am here to bestow upon you a great honor. The faithful readers in this world are fading, but Santa Claus informed me of your desire to join our reading forces. Thereby I have enclosed this magical token, a library card - accented with special glittery stickers, mind you - to start on your quest of reading. 

[Fergus looks at his card in wonder]   
Fergus: When can I start reading? 

Derek: I think the library is open tomorrow. 

Fergus: Can we go?

Stiles: We can do that. 

Derek: Fergus, I see one more present for you under here, but why don't we let Merida open hers. 

Merida: Finally!

Hamish: Why does Fergus get two?

[Merida pulls a large square box into her lap and starts opening the present with her claws. Merida starts shrieking happily as she pulls out a pair of white roller skates with black and orange pompoms]

Merida: THEY'RE NOT PINK. I am so happy. 

[Merida starts frantically untying the laces and starts shoving her feet into the boots] 

Derek: Okay, let me help you with those. 

[Derek ties the shoelaces and Merida stands up wobbling. She takes a tentative step forward and wipes out (hard). There is a collective "ooh"]

Merida: I'm okay! 

Stiles: Are you sure, Merida? 

[Merida scrambles to get up but finally manages to get her feet underneath her]

Merida: Yes, I'm fine. Is it okay if I go skate outside now? 

Derek: Once everybody is finished unwrapping then you can go. 

Stiles: There's only two more presents. 

Merida: Okay. 

[Merida precariously rolls over to the couch]

Stiles: I think it's Angus' turn now. 

[Angus walks over to the tree and retrieves a large rectangular gift. He sits down and rips open the wrapping paper revealing a long, brown case. He opens the case and it reveals a viola] 

Angus: Oh cool! 

[He carefully lifts the viola out of its case and brushes his fingers across the strings. He closes his eyes as he savors the mellow tones] 

Angus: I love it! 

Lydia: And it will come in handy when it's time to apply for college.

Derek: Santa also included some lessons with Mr. Issler. 

Stiles: I think there's one more present under the tree for Fergus. 

[Fergus scrambles under the tree and retrieves the last box. He happily unwraps the present but looks a little puzzled at the contents. He picks up a picture of a young girl holding a plush elephant] 

Fergus: Huh? 

Derek: I think Santa gave you a pen pal for Christmas. 

[Peter waltzes over and takes a look at the picture] 

Peter: I don't know about that one. She looks evil. 

[Lydia gestures for the picture and Fergus hands it to her. Cora leans over and studies the picture]

Lydia: What are you talking about? 

Cora: She looks nice, Peter! 

Lydia: Does it say what her name is? 

[Fergus frowns at the box's contents and retrieves a piece of paper] 

Fergus: Hipatiya? 

[Lydia gestures for the piece of paper] 

Lydia: It looks like her name is Hypatia Fukumoto. She's six, like you, and her birthday is on June 23rd. She likes to read and her favorite color green. Her elephant's name is Hannibal. 

Peter: Like the cannibal...What did I tell you, she's evil!

Fergus: There's a elephant named Hannibal in Angus' books. 

Peter: Well she lacks creativity then. 

[Peter is pelted with wrapping paper remnants]

[The camera pans across the room taking in the smiling faces of everybody except Fergus. Merida is rolling towards the door]

Stiles: What's wrong Fergus? 

Fergus: Nothing... 'Cept I don't think Hypatia can play with me now. 

Stiles: Oh...no. Santa told me that she lives in Washington, but you can write her. 

Fergus: Yeah...she sounds nice.

[Merida opens the door] 

Merida: THERE'S ANOTHER PRESENT OUT HERE. IT SAYS IT'S FOR FERGUS. 

Hamish: WHY DOES FERGUS GET THREE PRESENTS? 

Stiles: There shouldn't ... 

[Fergus runs toward the door. Derek starts to run after him] 

Derek: Wait, Fergus! 

[Fergus reaches the box and lifts the lid] 

Fergus: IT'S A PUPPY! 

Derek: It is a young dog. 

Stiles: Who the he-

[Fergus picks the dog up and the dog starts licking his face]  
Fergus: I'm going to name it Cerberus! And he'll be my best friend and we'll play together and -

Hamish: Why does Fergus get a puppy!

Stiles: Who got Fergus a puppy?! 

Fergus: It's from Santa! 

Stiles: Just one second. 

[Video ends]


End file.
